


From Kingsman With Love

by MHMoony



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen, Kinda, M/M, i tried real hard my dude, villain!Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 17:56:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13105503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MHMoony/pseuds/MHMoony
Summary: A gentleman spy and a super genius villain. The lines are always clear until someone starts to blur them.





	From Kingsman With Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AgentStannerShipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this, RC, because I had a good time writing it! Merry Christmas, my dear friend!
> 
> Not beta-ed or Britpicked, so I apologize for any mistakes/inaccuracies. And also thanks to Joe_Alex for encouraging me while I was writing this and reassuring me that I was doing alright. I love you, buddy.

“Hart. To what do I owe the pleasure?” a smooth, Scottish brogue asks.

“I was thinking dinner, dancing,” Harry replies with his Tokarev steady in hand, watching as his mark turns around, “possibly a goodnight kiss if you’re good.”

“Oh, I’m always good,” Merlin says calmly which only causes Harry’s caution to increase. “The real question is, will you be?”

Merlin quickly taps a button on his tablet, and immediately, Harry is pulled backwards, his back slamming into the wall behind him. His entire body is stuck, his arms plastered next to his head on both sides. Harry grunts as he tries to lift them away from the wall, but it’s no use. He curses in his head and shames himself for not being more prepared for something like this—it was a familiar game between the two of them, after all.

As Merlin starts walking towards him, Harry stops his struggling, and just watches the ever-stoic faced man approach him.

“And what new toy is this, Merlin?” he asks nonchalantly. “I haven’t seen this one before.”

All Merlin does is give him that smirk. The same one he always gives when he knows he’s bested him. “Do you really think I’m going to explain my equipment to you so you can go and find ways to counteract them?”

Harry shrugs. “It’s part of the usual spy versus megalomaniac script, isn’t it?”

“This is hardly a movie, Hart. And I’m no more of a megalomaniac than you.”

Harry raises a brow. “Yes, and who is the one with the top secret weaponry and evading actual government documents?”

“If you paid attention, you’d realise you’re talking about the both of us,” Merlin counters easily. “You and I are both trying to do the same thing, Hart. My methods are simply different than yours.”

“Your _methods_ get innocent people hurt.”

“Like you’re a fucking saint,” Merlin leers. “How many civilians have you killed in the name of Kingsman?”

Hart says nothing and steels his eyes. Merlin insulting Kingsman has always been a sore spot for him, no matter how many times they may face each other.

Merlin sighs, and Harry wonders if the man feels as tired as he sounds. “I don’t know what else you want me to say. Until you can open your eyes and see we have the same goals, I can’t help you, and more innocent people are going to suffer from that organization of yours.”

Merlin turns to walk away, but Harry calls out, his curiosity getting the better of him. Merlin has never been shy in stating his dislike for Kingsman and wanting to dismantle their entire organization, but saying that it may be possible that he and Harry could want the same things? Impossible.

“If we’re on the same side like you say,” Harry says, “then why don’t you join Kingsman instead of trying to destroy us? Lend a hand in surveying Valentine and his SIM cards?”

At that, Merlin laughs, and Harry only becomes more confused.

“If you think for one second I’d voluntarily work side-by-side with Chester King, you are sorely mistaken,” he says without turning back around. “I said I was on _your_ side, Hart. Not Kingsman’s. Perhaps you should rethink the company you choose to keep, and the ones you try to eliminate.”

And with that, Merlin walks away, once again leaving Harry trapped to his own devices. Harry glares at the corner Merlin turned before getting back go figuring out how to escape once more.

—

Harry slams the door to his home and curses. It had taken a little longer than usual to get himself free, and by the time he was finally able to turn the magnetic wall off, Merlin had already disappeared without a trace. This song and dance between himself and Merlin has been going on for far too long. He could have just shot him. He _should_ have, really, he didn’t need to alert the mad tech wizard to his presence, and yet, Harry couldn’t find it in himself to pull the trigger.

And he definitely didn’t want to think about the reasoning behind his reluctance.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to shove away the headache he knows will be coming soon. If that awful man wasn’t so damn attractive—

“Get it together, you desperate, middle-aged fool,” he grumbles to himself.

Harry moves towards the sitting room and makes himself a martini (extra dry, more dry than usual) before collapsing on the couch with a sigh. He and Merlin have been at it for years now, the term ‘nemesis’ losing its spark and moving more towards ‘reluctant children whose parents keep planning playdates’ (the term ‘sexual tension’ also springs to mind, but Harry takes a long sip of his martini and shoves it away).

Today, though, was different. Merlin had never given Harry a straight reason as to why he wouldn’t join Kingsman, simply saying, “no,” or “I’m already doing what I need to do,” or “Kingsman can go fuck itself.” But today, he had directly said Arthur’s name, Chester King. Merlin shouldn’t know that. He shouldn’t know who else was in Kingsman, let alone their leader’s actual name.

It only makes Harry wonder more about Merlin’s vehement dislike of Kingsman. Having been part of this secret service for more than half his life, Harry considers that golden ‘K’ to be part of his blood, proud to be a member of such an elite and noble society. It baffles him that Merlin could think their intentions to be sinister, but then again, he had specifically said he would never work with Chester King. Perhaps it’s more Chester he dislikes rather than the organization as a whole? But with the way he runs things, Kingsman might as well _be_ Chester King.

Harry shakes his head before downing the rest of his drink, wincing at the burn it leaves behind. Next time, he’ll get Merlin to tell him exactly what it is about Chester that makes him want to run Kingsman into the ground.

—

Walking into his temporary labs, Merlin looks up from his tablet to find Olivia already there, her attention laser-focused on the screen in front of her, fingers flying away on the keyboard.

“What’ve you got there, Olivia?” he asks as he approaches her desk.

“Remember that hacking programme you’ve been working on?” she replies, her eyes not leaving the screen.

“Yes,” Merlin raises a brow as he crosses his arm and tucks his tablet in his side, “and I believe I told you it wasn’t ready for use yet.”

That small, sly smile appears on her face, the one that Merlin knows means she’s gone and done something brilliant. “Well, I thought I’d give it a looksee while you were dealing with Hart. Especially after what he said about Valentine the other day. If he thinks something is wrong with that man, then I thought it would be worth checking out. I decided to give it a test run today, and I think you’ll be glad to hear that it works.”

Merlin is about to tell her that he’s impressed when her smile quickly fades away. He furrows his brows in concern. “You don’t look to happy about that.”

“Because I’m not happy about what I found,” she says grimly. “I tested it out on Kingsman, and found King’s personal e-mails.”

“You _what_ —”

“Merlin,” she interrupts, finally looking at him, and Merlin is taken aback by the worry in her eyes, “Hart was right about Valentine. And King is working with him.”

Merlin’s own eyes widen before leaning over Olivia’s shoulder to look at the screen, and he’s horrified to see the content of their correspondence. “ _Shit_ ,” he says. “A worldwide cleanse? V-Day?”

“We have to stop them,” Olivia interrupts again, her voice filled with a quiet conviction and her eyes fierce.

Merlin nods his head and stands up straight, taking his tablet and connecting it with the computer to begin copying the files onto it. “You’re right. Here, it says Valentine won’t be launching his operation for five more days, so it looks like we have time to come up with something.”

Olivia pauses her typing, and turns to look at Merlin. “I have an idea.”

“Of course you do,” he says fondly. “Well, lay it on me.”

She bites her lip nervously, and suddenly, Merlin has a feeling he won’t like this plan. “I think we should work with Hart.”

“ _No_ ,” Merlin says immediately. “Absolutely not. He _works_ for King. For all we know, he could have one of those bloody chips in his head, as well.”

“But you’ve always said that Hart was different than Kingsman,” she insisted. “He actually wants to do something good for the world rather than use others for his own gain. And I’ve heard what he’s said to you before in your scuffles. He’s different. I know he is.”

Merlin shakes his head. “Olivia, the risk is too big. If we confront him and ask him to go against King, their _literal_ King Arthur, he could alert Chester, Valentine, anyone who’s part of this fucking thing and get us both killed. I know you want to get rid of King, Olivia, but—”

“This is so much more than just King now, Merlin,” she says, her eyes wide and fiery. “This is the actual human race. And if I’m right, then Hart could be our greatest ally.”

Merlin studies her for a moment. She’s been thinking about this, he knows, her face set and determined. He also knows that, regardless of what he says, she’ll go and do whatever she thinks is right, the headstrong young woman she is.

“Alright,” he relents, and he ignores the absolutely delighted look on her face. “So how do you suppose we go about asking him? A phone call? E-mail? Singing telegram?”

“I was thinking something more in person, actually,” she smirks.

Merlin doesn’t like it when Olivia smirks.

—

Harry takes a sip of his tea as he reads the _Sun_. Another headline, another mission gone right, another cover to pin up in his office. He’s just beginning the paragraph about the dog that befriended a stray cat when he hears a familiar voice, and his body tenses automatically.

“Hart? Harry Hart, is that you?”

Harry looks up from the paper to see Merlin, his face holding a surprised smile and what looks to be genuine delight.

“God, Harry, I haven’t seen you in ages. May I sit?” He gestures towards the seat across from him, and all of Harry’s instincts tell him to say no, to knock the man out and take him to HQ. But instead, he looks around at the people milling about the sidewalk, not taking any notice or of the two men running into each other at the local tea shop, and nods his head.

Merlin sits, and Harry places the paper on the table. “I’m surprised to see you, Merlin,” Harry says, erring on the side of caution. “What brings you in the city?”

“Work,” Merlin replies, and Harry quirks an eyebrow and takes a sip of his tea, his guard going up slightly. “Something’s rotten in the state of Denmark, I’m afraid.”

Harry pauses at that. He sets his cup back down and lets out a light laugh, making sure to match the same casualness that Merlin is presenting. What game is he playing?

“Oh? Trouble in the office, then?”

Merlin shakes his head. “Not exactly, no. The CEO of a rival company has just made a deal with the devil.” He looks pointedly at him, and Harry knows their conversation has taken a turn. “I’m here to scope out some workers of his, see if they’d like to come work for us instead.”

“I see,” Harry mutters. “And why would these employees change companies so easily?”

“Because they’re better than their leader,” Merlin says seriously. “They have a better judgement, a better sense of morality, and a better vision.”

Harry looks at him curiously. The offer was as clear as day, and the intensity with which Merlin was staring at him was almost overwhelming. He has to be desperate, Harry thinks, if he’s coming here for help.

“And what kind of devil is he dealing with exactly?”

“The kind who gives away free SIM cards like they’re pennies to a fountain.”

Harry startles at that. He knew something was suspicious about that Valentine man, but this was nearly too much information at once, with Merlin implying that Chester could be in collusion with the tech conglomerate. Before Harry can comment, he sees Merlin’s eyes avert over his shoulders slightly, and he puts that easy smile back on his face.

“I have to run now, but I’d love to catch up more if you’d like.” He pulls a pen out of his inside jacket pocket and writes down a phone number on one of Harry’s unused napkins before sliding it over to Harry. He puts his pen back in his pocket and stands up. “Valentine’s Day is only three days away. Perhaps we could plan something then.”

Harry’s head is spinning at all of this coded conversation, but nods. “I’ll make sure to be in touch.”

Relief washes over Merlin, and he holds his hand out to shake. “That means a lot, Harry. I hope to hear from you soon.”

Harry shakes the man’s hand before letting go. Merlin nods at him and walks away, and Harry turns to watch him go, his brows furrowing as a young woman joins him at his side. He turns back around and looks down at the napkin. It’s only then that realised that Merlin had left a note underneath the phone number, and only becomes more baffled.

_Don’t trust anyone with a scar behind their ear._

—

Harry's mind is still reeling from his surprise talk with Merlin the previous day as he walks into the shop for his meeting with Arthur. Sleep didn’t come easy to him the night before, and the napkin holding Merlin’s number and ominous warning weighs heavy in his pocket.

He opens the double doors to the dining room and takes his seat next to Arthur.

“Galahad,” he greets. “Late again, I see.”

“Apologies, Arthur,” Harry says, making sure to keep his guard up. “I was running a bit late this morning.”

“Yes, well, no harm done.” He slides a dossier that had been sitting on the table in front of Harry, who quirks his brow and picks it up.

“And what’s this, then?”

“Your new long-term assignment,” Arthur answers. “You’re being taken off of Merlin.”

Harry looks up abruptly. “Excuse me?”

“It’s been too long, Galahad,” Arthur says sternly. “You’ve failed to eliminate the problem, so someone else has been assigned to take care of Merlin.”

“No one else knows how Merlin works like I do,” Harry narrows his eyes. “And I can assure you that whoever you assigned to him won’t be able to escape his contraptions.”

“Perhaps that will be because they won’t get caught in the first place.”

His blood boils. Merlin was _his_ , and he’d be damned if Arthur would take him away now. Arthur’s phone buzzes, and he turns his head to glance at the screen, and Harry's heart stops. There, right behind his ear, is a scar.

The napkin in his pocket feels that much heavier.

Clearing his throat, Harry says, “Very well, then. If that’s what you think is best.”

Arthur turns his attention back towards Harry, and offers him an almost sinister smile. “Glad you can see it that way, Galahad. You’ve always fought against my ways, but I’m hoping that this means we can start working more easily side-by-side.”

Red flags are going off all around him. This wasn’t normal talk between himself and Arthur, not how they usually interacted. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” Arthur starts, folding his hands in front of him, “that I have an opportunity for you that, despite our differences in views, I believe you will know to take.” Harry says nothing as the older man gets up to open a cabinet and grab two tumblers and a decanter of whiskey, and sets them on the table before sitting back down and pouring them each a glass. “Richmond Valentine is a smart man. And Kingsman, first and foremost, aligns itself with smart men.”

“I always thought Kingsman first and foremost protected the world for the greater good.”

“And Valentine also wishes to do so.”

“Does he now?”

“Yes, and if _you_ were a smart man—which I do believe you are—you’d align yourself with him as well.”

Harry eyes the drinks in front of them, and for a split second, he truly doubts that Arthur could be that transparent. He hasn’t even heard what the man wants to say yet, but it’s far too obvious that he’s done something with his drink, and Harry is almost insulted that Arthur could think him so inept and inexperienced that he couldn’t tell that his drink has been tampered with, and with one of Kingsman’s own concoctions at that.

“The earth is dying, Galahad,” Arthur continues, “and humanity is the cause. There’s too many people for this world to sustain, and Valentine is going to remedy that.”

Harry feels his insides twist. Nothing about this is sitting well with him, and if he weren’t a man who wanted to save the world himself, he wouldn’t have been able to ask, “Is that so?” He glances at the portraits of Kingsman’s forefathers behind Arthur and points at them. “Would our predecessors approve of Kingsman dallying with this man?”

Arthur turns his head to look at the paintings, and Harry uses this moment to swiftly switch their glasses. No chances.

“I believe they would,” Arthur continues as he turns back around. “They founded Kingsman on the basis of creating a better world. And Valentine is going to do just that. Imagine Noah’s Ark, Galahad. Valentine selected his animals, and we will wake to an earth reborn.”

“I see,” Harry nods his head slowly and picks up the glass in front of him. He feels disgusted. He can’t believe how blind he’s been, how far Kingsman has fallen from its original intent. Noting the way in which Arthur is eyeing him, he straightens up and raises his glass. “To a new world, I suppose.”

Arthur gives him that smarmy smile again, and lifts his own glass as well, both of them downing their drinks in toast. “I’m glad you can see it my way this time, Galahad.”

“Oh, no,” Harry shakes his head as he sets his glass back down on the table. “I’m toasting to a new world without people like you or Valentine who believe they can play God. I won’t be joining you on your ark.”

Arthur’s face turns into fury, and then immediately into a smug grin. “Very well,” he says as he pulls out his pen from his pocket. “I can always find a new Galahad.”

He lifts the clip, not taking his eyes off Harry. Harry simply sits there, his eyes wide and innocent. He sees the confusion on Arthur’s face before the poison begins to take hold.

“You’re a snob, Arthur,” Harry says as the man begins choking. “Kingsman needs to move towards the future, but not like this. And I’ll be damned if I see you bring its name down with you.”

“You dirty, fuckin’ prick,” Arthur spits at him before finally collapsing.

Harry straightens his tie before standing and moving behind Arthur’s body. He looks between the pen in his hand and the scar behind his ear, and sighs.

“Merlin, you better be able to tell me what the fuck this thing is,” he mutters to himself before picking up the pen and stabbing at the scar.

—

Harry storms into the library to find James sitting with his arm wrapped around Alistair on the couch.

“Harry,” James smiles. “I thought you’d be gone on your new mission by now.”

“Change of plans,” Harry says, his tone causing James to lose his grin and Alistair to eye him curiously. “I need to see your neck.”

Alistair blinks at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“Harry, what the hell are you going on about?” James asks.

“Just come here and let me check them,” Harry insists. “Please just trust me.”

James and Alistair share a look before turning back towards Harry.

“Alright,” James says standing up, Alistair following suit. “I trust you. Go ahead, have a look.”

Relief washes over Harry, knowing that if they had those implants in them, they wouldn’t allow him to check in the first place. “Thank you,” he says.

Harry walks over to James first and looks behind both ears, and then Alistair to do the same, before letting out a sigh of relief. No scars, no wayward agents blindly following Arthur.

“Thank you,” he repeats, swiping a hand over his face. “That makes this much easier.”

“So are you going to tell us what the devil is going on now?” James asks.

He looks at his two friends. “We should sit. It’s…quite the long story.”

—

“Who the hell are you?” Merlin asks as he walks over the tied up body on the floor of his latest hideout. “Where’s Hart?”

“Galahad has been reassigned,” the man says.

Merlin raises a brow. “So they sent you instead? Can’t say I’m impressed.”

“Yes, well— _hey_ , just what the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Merlin is twisting the man’s neck and, sure enough, he sees a scar. He scoffs. “You break into my facilities with a gun and that scar on your neck, and you’re the one asking me that question? I always thought you Kingsman were all about manners making man or something of the sort.”

The man snorts and rolls his eyes. “That’s Galahad through and through.”

“Ah,” Merlin says as he stands back up. “Then perhaps the rest of you should heed his wisdom.”

The man furrows his brows. “What do you—”

Merlin raises his watch and sends a sleeping dart into his neck.

“Bloody idiots,” he grumbles. “Even Hart didn’t get captured this fast on his first try.”

“Merlin,” he hears Olivia call through the coms.

He presses a finger to the side of his glasses. “Yes, Olivia?”

“I’ve caught three more Kingsman agents.”

“What, did they send all of them?”

“Er, I don’t think so. One of them is Hart. He brought two others with him.”

Merlin pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Alright, I’ll be right there.”

Dragging the unconscious agent along with him, Merlin makes his way to the labs where Olivia is waiting, and sees Hart and two other men zip-tied to chairs, slowly waking up. “Impressive,” he hums, and Olivia beams.

“It helps when they think they’re dealing with a simple secretary.” She lightly kicks the one on Hart’s left—a man with a garish suit—and he groans.

“Yes, well how was I supposed to know she’d use that damn clipboard as a battering ram?”

“I think she has every right to beat the shit out of you, if I’m being honest.” Merlin shoves the unconscious man in front of the three of them and gestures towards Hart. “Now, can you tell me why King decided to send four of his agents to me instead of just your poncy arse?”

“Arthur didn’t send us,” Harry says, and Merlin raises his brows in surprise. “We came here on our own. Sorry for not warning you in advance.”

“What the bloody hell is Bors doing here?” the man in the tan and green get-up asks.

“Ah, is that his name, then?” Merlin says. “He told me he’d been assigned to me. Unfortunately, he’s worse than you, Hart.”

“He’s worse than most people,” Hart says, unimpressed. “Now are you going to untie us so we can help?”

Merlin and Olivia look at each other, and then back to Harry.

“Tell me who these other two are and why I should trust them, and maybe we will.”

The man on Hart’s other side—the one with jet black hair—eyes them. “So this is the famous Merlin. I can see why you’ve never bested him, Harry.” He nods his head towards Olivia. “It’s because of her.”

“Well, at least that one’s smart,” Merlin mutters under his breath, and Olivia snickers next to him. It doesn’t take long for Hart to explain that he brought James—the tacky one—and Alistair—the serious one—along with him, and soon enough, the five of them are all on a plane headed towards Valentine’s base.

—

Harry knocks on the door to the cockpit and waits until he hears Merlin’s slightly muffled, “Enter,” before letting himself inside. He closes the door behind him and sees him piloting the plane. In another life, Harry wonders, were the two of them colleagues? Always working on the same side, rather than on opposing teams, constantly trying to outdo one another? Perhaps in that life, they were even friends. Possibly even more.

That last thought creeps into his head without warning, and Harry shoves it away. This was not that life, after all. He takes a few more steps towards Merlin and asks, “May I sit?”

Keeping his eyes on the controls as he double checks his coordinates, Merlin nods, and Harry takes the seat next to him.

“That Olivia is really quite something.”

He sees the small smile that appears on Merlin’s face. “Aye, she is.”

“And how did you two end up together, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Merlin says nothing as he continues fiddling with the controls, and Harry begins to worry it was a question he shouldn’t have asked.

“Her mother and I were friends,” he finally says. “Classmates at Oxford, both in computer science and engineering. Neither of us really had a family, so we became each other’s. And it was just the two of us for a while, exchanging blueprints, helping each other with ideas for inventions…we thought we could take on the world together.” He pauses, and Harry feels an uncomfortable weight in his chest at the thought of Merlin and this woman together before scolding himself in his head for having such ridiculous (and nearly distasteful) thoughts. “And then, Olivia happened. God, Jenny was so scared. When she went to go tell the father, the prick said he wanted nothing to do with them and threw her out—“

“You’re not Olivia’s father?”

Harry is alarmed at the laugh that escapes the man, and he’s caught between utter confusion and bashfulness when Merlin turns in his chair to face him properly.

“Biologically, absolutely not,” Merlin says, his voice growing soft, “but I certainly do love her as though she were my own.”

Hart clears his throat. “Pardon me for assuming,” he says.

“It’s alright,” Merlin reassures. “It wouldn’t have been the first time Olivia and I were mistaken as such, nor would it be the first time someone thought Jenny and I could ever be an item.” He chuckles again and shakes his head. “She’d laugh her arse off every time someone even suggested it.”

“Was it really that laughable of an idea that you two could have been an item? Your story certainly holds all the typical tropes for friends falling in love.”

“I did love her, don’t get me wrong,” Merlin says as his smile lessens a bit, “unfortunately, I could never love her the way I've always loved men.”

Harry blinks. “Oh.”

“What? Surprised to find I’m gay? Not in your typical arch nemesis handbook?”

Harry lets out his own small laugh at that. “Apologies again. I wasn’t expecting it, no.” And it only made ignoring his attraction to him that much harder. “So does Jenny approve of Olivia working with you, then?”

Hurt flash across Merlin’s face. “Jenny...well, she never got to see the brilliant young woman that Olivia is today. She died when Olivia was eleven. Christ, I can’t believe it’s been ten years already."

Harry feels his heart break for this woman he never knew, the daughter who lost her, and the man in front of him who clearly loved her deeply. “I’m sorry,” is all he knows to say.

“It’s not your fault,” Merlin mumbles. “It’s King’s, actually.”

“I’m sorry?” he repeats as his eyes widen. “Do you mean to say Chester King is responsible?”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Merlin says. “You, James, and Alistair may be part of Kingsman to make the world a better place, but King…he only used it for his own purposes, even if that meant covering up his own crimes and using an innocent woman as a scapegoat.” He briefly looks towards the door to the cabin where Harry knows Olivia is furiously looking through databases to find anything she can on Valentine and his base. “She wanted revenge on King, and frankly, so did I. And that’s what we’ve been trying to do for the past four years.”

Harry does the math in his head, and it finally clicks. “That’s when Chester assigned me to you.”

“Aye,” Merlin nods. “We weren’t careful with our first computer infiltration, and he caught sight of my codename. Been trying to get rid of me first ever since.”

Harry can feel a smouldering of anger begin to build inside of him. “He used me to protect himself from a problem he created. Your entire dossier was filled with you and your plans to end Kingsman.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised you never knew, but it makes sense now why you were always so dead set on getting to me without question,” Merlin says. “While he was a fuckin’ piece of shit, he was still clever.” Merlin eyes Harry, and something stirs inside. “Clearly not clever enough, though.”

Harry can’t help but be pleased at the small bit of praise, but he shrugs. “Had I known the entire truth, I would have joined forces with you long beforehand.”

“And what a time that would’ve been,” he smiles. “Gentleman spy and the megalomaniac, super genius villain.”

“Don’t be daft,” Harry says, and Merlin raises a brow while Harry just smirks. “You’re hardly a genius.”

Merlin laughs lightly and shakes his head.

“And besides, it’s like you said,” Harry adds, “you’re no more of a megalomaniac than I am.”

Merlin’s smile softens into a an expression that Harry can’t quite place, so he continues, “And I think it’s time I stop calling you villain, don’t you think?”

Merlin studies him, and instead of the caution and red flags that usually accompany an analysis from the Scotsman, Harry feels almost…willing. Willing to let him see him, all of him, however he chooses.

Just as it seems as though Merlin is about to speak again, Olivia’s voice echoes through the coms.

“Merlin, I analysed the chip implant that Hart brought in. You might want to see this.”

“Be right there, Olivia.” He looks at Harry and nods his head towards the door. “Shall we?”

Their heart-to-heart is over, it seems, and the mission comes first. Harry nods his head, but hopes that, once this is all over, they can get back to moments like this again. It’s as though he’s seeing Merlin for the first time. Not as the villainous man who wants to destroy Kingsman, but the hurting father figure who wants justice for the young woman he had taken in as his own.

—

“These are my two guests, and up there are my personal assistant and my pilot,” Hart says as the receptionist and guards greet and search him.

“I’ll assist you right up your arse,” Merlin hears Olivia mutter next to him.

The corner of his lips quirk up. “Easy, Olivia.”

“Congratulations, Mycroft, you’ve just been promoted from my pilot to my valet.”

His grin stiffens. “You, cheeky…”

“Easy, Merlin,” Olivia teases. Glancing at her, he can see the smirk on her face.

Once Hart, James, and Alistair are allowed access into the space, Merlin and Olivia get back in the plane to to get to work. Merlin opens the computer on the side of the cabin while Olivia gets back to her own workstation on the small table she had commandeered as her own with her tablets and laptops strewn about.

“Hello?” he hears her say into her glasses. “Can you three her me?”

Merlin connects his own coms to their channels in time to hear James say, “These glasses are incredible.”

“That was all Merlin,” Olivia says, and Merlin turns back briefly to smile at her to see that she’s giving her a grin of her own.

“Olivia comes up with excellent modifications,” he adds. “Enough of the equipment, though. Hart, find me a computer so I can get into the wifi. Alistair, see if you can find where Valentine mans his systems from. And James, keep an eye out for that assistant of his, I believe her name is Gazelle, and her prosthesis can quite literally cut you in half. So be careful,” he instructs. “And please, do try and blend in.”

Of course, James and Hart immediately ask for drinks in manners no one in the real world would ever order something (who the fuck asks someone to pleasantly smell a freshly poured glass of 1962 Dalmore or stir a martini while staring at an unopened bottle of vermouth?), but the waiter doesn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary; Merlin chalks it up to aristocrats actually being that ridiculous when it comes to parties, and urges them to continue on in their pursuits.

Hart, thankfully, is able to get him onto a laptop to connect to the wifi system; unfortunately, one of the guards sees his attack on the Swedish Prime Minister, and all of a sudden, all hell breaks loose.

Olivia is guiding the three of them through the base’s maze-like halls to get them back to the plane while Merlin does all he can to prevent the SIM cards from going off. Just as he thinks he’s denied Valentine access to his systems, a biometric security access appears on the scream, and Merlin hears Olivia curse the same time as him.

“Merlin, guards approaching the plane."

“Shit,” he says under his breath as he gets up. “Grab your gun, hide it behind your back, and come on.”

He picks up his own rifle and peeks out the door, Olivia right next to him, both of them playing innocent.

“What’s going on?” he asks the armed guards. “Come on, guys, we’re just the help.”

The guards begin to put down their weapons when Hart, James, and Alistair come running down the entrance to the hangar.

“Jesus Christ,” Olivia grits out before taking out her own customised rifle.

They both take out the guards in front of the plane as well as the few who were following the three agents who Merlin roars at them to, “Get in here!”

The three of them are catching their breaths, ready to leave, but Merlin shakes his head. “Not yet. Valentine’s got a biometric security system. I can’t hack past that, so I need you three to make sure his hand never touches his activation panel.”

Hart and James look at him incredulously, and Alistair almost looks bored.

“Surely, you must be joking,” Hart says.

“I’m afraid not.”

“Alright,” James sighs, approaching Merlin and his rifle. “Give it here, then.”

“Uh-uh,” Merlin says as he takes a step back. “This is mine. Olivia, show them theirs.”

Olivia beams as she takes them to the back of the plane where she and Merlin had stocked their gadgets as they were preparing to leave, and Merlin gets back to seeing if he can delay Valentine any further.

He hears them come back into the cabin, and Merlin smiles proudly at the weapons he and Olivia created finally being used to save the world: Alistair with a knife and one of the pistols with the shotgun cartridge, James with two of those same pistols but with suppressors on them, and Hart, carrying the newly-made Rainmaker.

“Excellent choices, gentlemen,” he says. “Hurry up, Valentine is going to start his countdown soon.”

James and Alistair go off, but Hart stays back a moment, holding his hand out to Merlin. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Merlin.”

Merlin is thrown off for a moment, but takes his hand in his and gives a shake. “You as well, Hart. Now, go and save the world.”

“If I save the world, can I keep this umbrella?”

Merlin rolls his eyes. “If you save the world, I’ll give you everything in the back of the plane. Get the fuck out of here.”

Hart gives him a shit-eating grin before following James and Alistair back into the fray. Merlin hears Olivia snort behind him, and he turns to her and raises a brow. “Anything you’d like to share with the class?”

“No,” she shakes her head innocently. “Just thinking that teaming up with Hart wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”

“Yes, that’s because you’re the one who thought of it,” he replies, getting back to the computer.

He wonders if he hears Olivia correctly when she mutters something under her breath about ‘giving everything in the back,’ but doesn’t think about it too long as he gets back to work.

Minutes later, everything falls to shit. Hart, James, and Alistair are cornered, and a seemingly endless army of guards is closing in on not only the three of them, but Merlin and Olivia as well. Merlin is at a loss of what to do, desperately trying to come up with a solution, but can find none.

“Merlin,” he hears Harry say his coms.

“Yes, Harry?”

“Is this your private channel? I was scrolling through and thought I read that correctly.”

“You did,” Merlin says, double checking.

“Oh, good. I just,” Hart pauses, and Merlin briefly wonders if the coms had cut out (or worse), “I wanted to say thank you.”

“Hart, I don’t know what you’re—”

“For allowing me to work with you, for trusting me, for showing me to not trust blindly, nor judge too quickly,” he continues, and Merlin is at a loss. “For opening my eyes to the company I should be keeping, and the ones I should have let go of long ago.”

Merlin swallows. “Hart—”

“Do you think we could have been something different in another life?”

“I…I’m not—”

“Because I do. I truly do.”

Merlin doesn’t know what to say. For years of playing cat and mouse, four years of rivalry, all culminating into his world crashing around him. He wants to say yes, in another life, they could have been something entirely different, whether it be colleagues, friends, or possibly even more. He wants to say that he wishes that life could be this one, that they could have skipped all the bullshit and maybe seek out whatever was happening between them. But none of that comes out. Instead, he lets out a shake breath, and begins, “Harry…I—”

“ _Merlin_ ,” Olivia’s voice echoes both through the cabin and his coms. “ _The chips_.”

He turns to look at her, her eyes wide and hopeful.

“Olivia, you are fucking brilliant,” he says as he immediately gets to work on overriding Valentine’s safety features, and moments later, the computer monitors are filled with the most colourful and beautiful montage of explosions he’s ever seen.

“That is fuckin’ spectacular!” he and Olivia yell at the same time.

They’re beaming at each other, and Merlin hears James and Alistair from the coms.

“What the bloody hell did you two do?!” James asks, his voice cheerful.

“Well, that was rather unexpected,” Alistair says, “but damn impressive as well.”

“Yes,” Hart chimes in. “Impressive, indeed.”

Their celebration is short-lived, however, when Valentine’s voice cuts through like a knife, telling them that they killed all of those innocent people, and all for nothing.

His palm was still on the trigger.

—

Harry likes to think of himself as a damn good secret agent, his success rate on missions far higher than his failures. All of his assignments ranged in terms of difficulty, but none has ever been as trying (nor frustrating) as this, and it almost didn’t even happen because of Kingsman in the first place. There was always something, it seemed.

He, James, and Alistair made their way back into the party area, ready to take on Valentine, but were intercepted by his assistant (Gazelle, was that the name Merlin had said earlier?). She’s quick, lethal, and unforgiving, and even three of Kingsman’s top agents have the hardest time touching her, let alone landing a blow. Harry dodges one of her prosthesis and rolls onto the ground, and a moment later, hears a piercing scream. Looking up, his heart drops to see James holding a hand to his chest, blood pouring out.

“Alistair, get James back to the plane,” Harry shouts, “I’ll handle the rest.”

Alistair is already steadying James and half carrying his husband out of the room, and Harry gets in front of Gazelle just in time to stop her from following them.

“Hart, get on with it,” he hears Olivia say in his ear.

“Understood,” he says, cocking his gun. He points and shoots, but nothing comes out. “Goddamnit,” he mutters as he throws it aside and runs at her instead, moving this way and that to get out of the way of her blades.

“Gazelle, quit playing with your food and kill him already!” Valentine calls from above.

Harry sees Gazelle eye him murderously before leaping into the air. Before he can match her, though, he hears a gun shot, her eyes going wide, and she crumples to the floor. He looks up to see Merlin standing there with a rifle in hand, and Harry’s heart stutters.

“Thought you could use some help,” he says as he approaches and tosses his rifle to him. “Go ahead. Save the world.”

“ _People are dying, can you please hurry the fuck up_?” Olivia nearly screams in their ears.

Harry nods at Merlin before turning around, aiming at Valentine’s back, and pulling the trigger. A moment later, he falls, and Harry can hear Olivia’s sigh of relief in his ear. He turns around and sees Merlin staring at him. Merlin nods his head at him, and Harry does the same, a small smile spreading on his face.

“Excellent work…Harry,” Merlin says.

Harry stops his smile from growing any larger. This is the third time Merlin’s called him by his first name rather than his last. “Thank you, Merlin.”

“You can call me Ian. If you like.”

“Very well then,” Harry says, his smile threatening to grow again. “Thank you, Ian.”

**One Month Later**

“And that should be the last of your new security system,” Merlin says as he finalizes entering the last bit of special programming for Kingsman’s updated estate.

“Thank you for all your help, Ian,” Harry says beside him. “You and Olivia have been monumental in helping us rebuild.”

“Well, since you’ve gone under new management, Olivia and I figured it’s time we start giving you a leg up,” he says.

Harry smiles. “And we are better for it. But really, we truly do appreciate it.” He pauses, and a look of apprehension appears on his face, causing Merlin to be cautious of what may come out of the man’s mouth next. “And all of us here at Kingsman, James, Alistair, the other agents and techs who weren’t under Chester’s hold, think it would be a damn shame to lose you.”

“What are you asking?” Merlin asks slowly.

“Well you see,” he begins with a sly grin, “a rival company of mine has currently been helping us in cleaning up a terrible deal the former CEO made with the devil, and I was wondering if their CEO would be interested in a merger of our companies.”

Merlin’s lip twitches up. “Is that so?”

“Oh, yes.”

“And why would that company agree to such a drastic contract?”

“Because our companies work best together, I believe. We prosper off each other’s products and methods of work, and I think together, we could thrive.”

Merlin laughs and shakes his head. “I think that sounds like an offer too good to pass up.”

“Good, good, I hoped you would,” Harry smiles, and he stops again before continuing, this time softer, and almost more vulnerable. “I was also thinking that myself and that company’s CEO could possibly have spend an evening together sometime. The kind where I would pick him around seven, hand him a bouquet of roses, take him to dinner, dancing.”

Merlin’s heart is beating wildly in his chest, his eyes wide as he stares at Harry, who is bashfully looking down at his shoes. He lets out a breathy laugh before standing up and gently taking Harry’s hand in his.

“And what about a goodnight kiss?” he asks quietly.

Harry’s head snaps up, a smile ghosting on his face. “Only if he’s good, of course.”

“With you, I don’t think he has any reason not to be.”


End file.
